


be still my ticking heart

by taiyakeo



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Royalty AU, also he's part of a banquine act, also mika dies like in the first chapter so watch out for that, because i am the queen of clowns, but seriously, circus AU, give me back ra bits' asterisk, hajime's a fortune teller, im planning on making this a big series, im so angry ao3 doesn't let me type rabits, mika does cloudswing, please, please yell at me about this au, shu is a doctor, so he can see all the fun stuff coming, the asterisk..., with ryuseitai and the rest of ra bits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22845169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taiyakeo/pseuds/taiyakeo
Summary: Can you put a human back together?This is the first question that faces Itsuki Shu when a patient is rushed to him teetering on the verge of death, a boy broken from a fall during an aerial act.The second question--Should you?
Relationships: Itsuki Shuu/Kagehira Mika
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> context for the first paragraph:  
> tsukasa does an archery kind of act with keito and leo! he has to catch arrows out of the air.. juicy...

In hindsight, Mika should have known. 

The day he died, Hajime had looked at him strangely. It was the sort of look you gave someone when you wanted to say something but couldn't quite do it. It was the sort of look Tsukasa had when he missed one of his arrows by a hairbreadth, wringing his hands and sucking the bloody tips of his fingers. It was a look of surprise and yet of knowing dread. 

Instead of dwelling on it, he'd cast his eyes to the windows outside, watching as the sky wept into the earth, sobs cracking as thunder broke over the sky like the snap of a whip. It rained that whole day. He wondered if it was raining back home, too. 

*

It happened perhaps an hour and twenty-five minutes into the show. Mika was backstage just before that, making clouds in his hands, patting and brushing until he was sure that they were covered in chalk.

"Don't use _all_ of it, Kageyama," Kaoru warned from behind him, peering into the container. 

"Won't. 'm finished, anyway." He turned and held up his hands in a position of surrender, accidentally sending a puff of chalk in Kaoru's general direction. 

Kaoru leapt backwards. "You'll get it on my clothes!" Shaking his hands, he dipped his hands into the chalk. "I can't believe you. Well, good luck, I guess." 

Mika nodded his head, weary, as Kaoru left. Hajime was looking at him from the corner of the room again. 

"It's almost your act soon."

"Yes." Mika would have said more if only his brain would work properly. "Um," was all that came out, unintelligently. 

Hajime opened his mouth and closed it again, brushing hair away from his ear. Opened it. Closed it again. 

Mika nibbled at his tongue. He had the itch to leave the room, but he knew he couldn't.

"Good luck, Mika-senpai." 

Somehow he felt as though he had been cursed. 

"You too." He smiled a little. "You're on earlier than me, you know. You should go and prepare." 

Hajime jolted a little, as though unaware that Mika'd been speaking to him, which was impossible, given that he was looking straight at him. His eyes were slightly glazed. Mika wondered if he was ill and pitied him slightly. 

"I'll go," Hajime said in an oddly calm voice. (Odd because Mika hadn't expected that sort of serenity in Hajime's voice--he had never heard anything like it.) 

Mika almost forgot to say goodbye as Hajime slunk past him through the doors, mumbling something about going to find Tomoya. He spent the next ten minutes staring at the empty space Hajime'd been sitting in. There was an odd feeling in his hands, like the numbness in his legs when he sat down in one position for too long. 

He almost missed his cue and Kaoru, still dripping with sweat from his act, had to come backstage and pull him out. 

"What are you thinking? Are you mad? You have to remember the timings!" he hissed in a hushed whisper, pushing him into the winding staircase that led to the ledge far above the stage. 

He remembered just on time to raise his arms as he walked onto the ledge and the lights shut off. He sat down in the little Mika-shaped cranny in the ribbon and waited. 

Hajime gave him a small thumbs-up from somewhere in the back. 

The crowd was looking at him. It was always funny to him--the crowd never felt like separate people with separate lives. Here, they were always one gigantic entity. Watching. Always watching.

His hands didn't slip from the bars as he pushed off. The drop had scared him at first, but now it was almost like nothing. He could observe more carefully the faces in the crowd--a very small little girl had stuffed her entire fist into her mouth. His hair whipped past his face, and he let himself believe he was back home, on the tire swing his grandmother had fashioned out of spare rope and tire. 

Back and forth. He looped his wrists into the cloth. Back. He did a flip, swinging his legs up and under. He sucked in a breath. Forth. He arched back into his seat, swinging his legs, to give the cloth momentum. 

The crowd was quiet. Waiting. 

He could hear his own even breaths. 

He kept his eyes up, grin on, swinging his legs with more force now but never too much. It was coming soon. 

He wasn't afraid, and he was proud of that as he kicked forward and out of the seat. 

In the next moment, he saw Hajime nibbling at his nails. He wasn't looking up anymore. He saw Tomoya, jaw tensed, eyes down. He saw Kaoru, hands over his mouth. He heard too late the creak. He felt too late the fear as he dropped. Too late--but what could he have done? 

The moment after that he heard the crack of breaking bone like the shattering of plates.


	2. Chapter 2

_Above all, I must not play at God._

What had he done? 

Shu stood in the room at the very end of the corridor, blood-soaked towel in his hands. The ice cubes in his cup cackled, startling him, as the bottom one melted into itself, the domino effect toppling the others stacked on top. 

The sunlight burned into his skin. He could hear the clock ticking and knew he was meant to be doing work. He had not gotten any sleep since the afternoon before. It was hot, unbearably hot, and for a moment he thought he might take off down the corridor, run for the hills. Take a ship to France. What was there for him to do?

There was a-- 

Boy? Would-be corpse? What should he even have called him? 

Mika Kagehira. Seventeen. A circus performer from the country, no family contacts that he had told any fellow entertainers of. Blunt impact to the head and neck, fractures in the thoracic and lumbar spine, right elbow and left arm. 

He didn't know what had made him do it. Pity, perhaps? He didn't remember how he'd done it. It was comically like a book he'd read as a child, the name of which he could not recall. 

There was a girl who, because of her mischief, was punished and turned into a porcelain doll by her mother, who smashed her open with a hammer and threw her broken pieces out into the river. She was found by a little boy who took pity on her and, using gold paint with magical properties, put her back together. Upon coming back to life, the girl-doll drowned him in the paint and made him a doll like herself.

His head had not been clear when he did it--it, it, _it._ He couldn't remember what it was. If only-- _Argh!_

He flung his tools down, flinching at the sound as though they had been thrown by somebody else. He didn't know. How long had he been working? How--

There was a knock at the door, tentative and soft, jerking his thoughts to a standstill like a clock whose cogs had been removed.

"Itsuki-san?" 

He shuddered himself into an upright position, rolling his shoulders back, finding his voice before he spoke. "Please give me a moment." He waited, glancing at Mika Kagehira lying (asleep?) on the table, before opening the door a crack and slipping out. 

"Good morning," the boy in front of him said, bowing. 

"Good morning. You are Hajime Shino. Yes?" 

The boy nodded, hastily, and opened his mouth, but did not seem surprised when Shu cut him off. 

"I'm afraid that he is not ready to be discharged yet. He will likely not be able to move about for quite a while." He paused, then tacked on an insincere "I'm terribly sorry". 

"Is he alright?" 

He didn't seem worried. Or suspicious--Shu assumed he had not seen the fall, and was relieved.

"Of course he is. He just--needs some time. I assume you have somebody to report to. Shall I write you a letter to give to them? A medical report? Apologies, I have little idea of how circuses operate." He feigned ignorance, waiting (un--deux--troix--) for a response.

He nodded again, and waited as Shu scribbled a short letter apologising for the delay, and promising to write another letter as soon as possible to give an update on Mika's condition when he improved (Assuming he did, of course). 

"Thank you," the boy said, and left. 

It was only later back in the room when he finished cleaning up that he realised. He had addressed the letter to Tenshouin Eichi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am not a doctor!! i grabbed common injuries suffered by patients who have fallen from a height and went from there,, augh,, i am just like shu... i am a Quack...
> 
> also ! i based what shu did on kintsugi? so i mean i guess mika's pottery now... but for the sake of valkyrie's Aesthetic we will pretend kintsugi is for porcelain dolls. yes? yes. thank you
> 
> i've been super caught up in other writing projects and exams (AUGH o-levels this year i'm Crying) so i'm updating as regularly as i can!!


End file.
